


Touché

by pat_t



Series: Darkness [2]
Category: Angel: the Series, Highlander: The Series
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-31
Updated: 2012-05-31
Packaged: 2017-11-06 08:59:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/417084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pat_t/pseuds/pat_t
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A companion piece to Blood Bath</p>
            </blockquote>





	Touché

**Author's Note:**

> Adult content for male/male slash, language, violence,DM/M, a Highlander/Angel crossover, this is a companion piece to Blood Bath.

ENGLAND 1780

Methos stepped into the dark alley, crinkling his nose in disgust when the foul odor from rotten food and stale urine assaulted his senses. He moved stealthily through the narrow passage, cursing softly under his breath when he stepped into a muddy puddle. He lifted his foot from the wet sludge and looked towards the near moonless sky, the small sliver of light stark against the background of the starless night. He felt a sudden chill rise up from his feet and course through his body. Shivering, he pulled his top coat around himself tightly and increased his pace.

He felt a low thrum of power, raspy and abrasive, wash over him. He turned sharply, liberating his blade in one smooth motion. His body met solid mass and he pressed forward, throwing all his weight into the thrust. His sword tore into flesh, searing through muscle and mesentery, until it was embedded in loops of bowel.

He looked into the snarling misshapen face, saw the sharp fangs protruding from the mouth and met a pair of wild yellow eyes. Bracing himself against the creature's trapped body, he sucked in a deep breath, and grasped the hilt of his sword with both hands. With a sharp upward movement, the creature was effectively gutted, its innards eviscerated through the gaping wound once his blade was withdrawn.

He watched the creature fall backwards, heard its weight thud onto the hard cold ground, and trembled with the final release of adrenaline.

"Bloody vampire," he muttered under his breath with disdain. He hadn't seen one in over five hundred years. Then for this stupid creature to attack him on this of all nights, when he was both cold and irritable, and wanting nothing more than to get back to the boarding house, and sink into a warm bath and even warmer bed.

'Well, there's nothing for it,' he thought as he bent down to grasp hold of the creature's dead weight.

********

Angelus came to, gritting his teeth against the searing pain in his gut. He might be dead, and while the lack of a beating heart meant he wouldn't bleed, he still felt pain when he sustained injuries. And this one was a bitch.

With his pain came rage, and as he felt it strum through his body, he unleashed it fully, metamorphosing into his vampire self. He growled and jerked against the heavy chains that had effectively imprisoned him on the small bed.

"When you get tired, let me know and we can talk," a smooth British accent met him calmly.

He looked towards the voice, and stilled, when a tall, slender man approached the bed, a broadsword held firmly in his hand. With an effort, he banked his anger and sank back against the mattress. He willed his human features to smooth out his face before turning to meet the other man's gaze.

"That's better," the other man told him calmly as he pulled a chair beside the bed and sat down.

Angelus assessed the man carefully--he had a lean muscular frame and was wearing gray britches and a plain white shirt. The dark hair was worn long and brushed back neatly from the handsome angular face. He looked into the man's eyes and felt himself involuntarily flinch at the coldness reflected in the hazel depths. A strong nose and unsmiling mouth completed the face peering back at him calmly.

"Who are you?" he spat towards him.

The man's eyes narrowed, followed by a mocking smirk before he spoke. "I was just about to ask you the same question," he replied easily.

Angelus remained silent, waiting. He saw the other man shrug with an amused smile before he continued.

"Very well, then. I'm Dr. Benjamin Adams. And you are?"

Angelus looked into his eyes, saw the cold control meeting his gaze, a look that did not match the calm smugness of his smile or relaxed posture as he sprawled easily in the chair. Angelus smiled.

"You're no doctor," he stated simply.

"I'm not?" The man's face reflected surprise. A surprise Angelus suspected was feigned.

"I've never seen a doctor like you. Not one who could take me down the way you did." He looked at the man and smiled evilly. "I'm going to rip you apart, you know that don't you?"

He felt himself bristle when the man merely laughed.

"What makes you think I'm going to let you go? I could kill you right now. It wouldn't take much, you know." The man stood and traced a line across his neck with a solitary finger. "I could cut off your head."

The finger left his face and trailed down to his chest. "I could stake you through the heart." The man's finger traced a line down to his abdomen. It was then that he realized he was bandaged, his abdominal cavity repaired and stitched in place.

"You mended me. Why?" He looked up, surprised and confused by the man's actions.

"Because I didn't want to kill you. If you hadn't attacked me, I would never have confronted you. As a matter of fact, I rarely fight unless I'm forced to."

Angelus studied the man a few moments longer, unexpectedly affected by the chilled silence as it surrounded them. The other man was still standing beside him, unmoving, letting him sort his thoughts and regain his equilibrium. He felt the strong waves of presence and power pouring off the man's aura; the same pressing power that had drawn him into the alley earlier that evening.

"I feel you," Angelus said softly. "You're not human, are you? You're one of them, an immortal?"

"Oh, I assure you. I am quite human." The other man paced in front of the bed, then stopped to face him once again. "What do you know of immortals?"

"I've heard rumors about your kind. You can't die."

"We can die, vampire. Just as you can be destroyed, so can we. What else?"

Angelus watched him, sensing a growing tension in his restless pacing. "Nothing, just rumors."

"I see." The other man sighed and walked away.

Angelus felt the chains pressing into his body and readjusted his weight. He didn't care about this man. Since losing his soul he was incapable of any empathetic feelings towards mankind. But something about this man's eyes shook him with a tightening to his gut he hadn't felt since he was human. Something about this man spoke of danger and unleashed power. Something spoke of his own damnation, and he felt his rage rising again like a coiled snake ready to strike.

"You said you didn't want to kill me. Why?" he snarled.

The other man twirled around quickly to face him, his face now full of his own anger as he snarled back in his clipped accent. "Because I have my own demons to face. Because I'm as damned as you are," he spat.

Angelus studied him: the controlled anger in his face, his flared nostrils, the way he gripped his sword as he pointed it towards him to accentuate his words.

"My name is Angelus," he told him. "If we meet again, I'll rip your heart out. No man does this to me and lives." He waited, expecting rage, shivering with the anticipation and want of it, when the man pulled his control around himself tightly, and strode over to the bed to face him.

The man bent down, just inches from Angelus' face and spoke softly. "I don't want to kill you. But, if we meet again, if you harm what's mine, I will destroy you. Have no doubt." He reached into his pocket and produced a small key.

Angelus watched, staying perfectly still while the man held the sword across his throat, the blade slicing a thin line into his flesh. Very deliberately, the man unlocked his chains and stepped away.

"It's mid-morning," Angelus was informed as the man backed away from the bed slowly. "There is no cover outside. If you attempt to follow me, you will be burned alive by the sun."

With that, this man, this Dr. Benjamin Adams, backed out the door and was gone, leaving Angelus behind to wait for nightfall.

Angelus watched him slip out the door, and smiled. "Touché."

~~~~~~

1925

New York City

Methos tossed his book aside and bolted from his chair. With one swift lunge, he was standing at his door, his Ivanhoe drawn and ready. He felt the presence surround him, rubbing against him abrasively, and he tensed, ready to fight for his life. Vampire!

The knock on his door was loud, jarring the hollow wood with its force. Slowly, he reached out and turned the knob, and eased the door open.

"Hi, Doc." The softly spoken words surprised him. He looked at the man standing in his doorway, and studied his face.

"Angelus," he greeted him somberly, purposely withholding the invitation that would allow the vampire to enter his home.

"Can I come in? It's been a long time."

"Why are you here, Angelus? Come to kill me? Did you not believe me when I said I would kill you if you ever crossed my path again?"

"I believed you."

Methos waited, his sword still drawn, and examined his guest closely. There was something different about him. Maybe it was the expression on his face, his posture as he leaned against the door frame, the look of defeat in his eyes. It was a look Methos was intimately acquainted with. It spoke of pain and need. _Human_ pain.

"You're different. What happened to you?" he asked, lowering his sword.

"Can I come in?"

He hesitated for only a moment, before stepping back and issuing the needed invitation.

"Thanks," Angelus stepped in slowly, seemingly understanding of Methos' caution.

Methos waited until Angelus stepped into the room, followed him, and sat down. He pointed to a chair opposite him in the small room and motioned for Angelus to sit down as well. Once the other man was seated, he drew up his sword and pointed it at his throat. "Talk."

"You're right." Angelus sighed, and looked up to meet his eyes. "I don't blame you for being cautious. I remember my threat to kill you."

"I believe you said you were going to rip my heart out," Methos answered with a smirk.

"Yeah, something like that. Like I said, you're right. Something did happen."

Methos watched Angelus closely and nodded his head, giving him permission to continue.

"Almost thirty years ago, I killed a young gypsy woman. Her family was a bit upset." Angelus looked up and smiled sadly. "They put a curse on me. They returned my soul. I, ah...." He paused and rubbed a hand across his face wearily. "I remember everything. Everyone I tortured, killed. All the pain I caused. It's eating me up inside, Doc."

Methos listened to his words, measuring the pain he detected in his voice, and put down his sword. "Why are you here, Angelus? Why come to me?"

"Because I remember what you told me. You're immortal too. You said you had your own demons, your own pain. Yet, you cope. You don't kill unless you have to. How do you...."

"What? How do I live? Survive?"

"Yes," Angelus whispered the word, and it sounded like a prayer.

Methos threw back his head and laughed, amused when the vampire stood up in anger. "What?" Methos taunted him. "You thought I had the wisdom of the ages? I had the answers? There is no answer, Angelus. It's all inside yourself, what you'll be able to survive, how much suffering you can endure. I'm just a guy, living day to day, trying to cope just like you are."

"There's got to be something." Angelus threw his hands up in surrender.

"Well, there isn't." Methos stood and faced him before softening his voice. "You look tired. What are you doing for food?"

"Rodents," came the soft reply. "Animals when I can. I don't drink from humans anymore, Doc. I can't. Not and live with myself."

Methos nodded and studied him with a critical eye. "You look like hell, Angelus," he informed him.

"I know. And, it's not Angelus anymore. It's Angel."

"Angel, then. And, it's Ben. You need to drink."

"How...I just told you, I couldn't bear to harm anyone again."

"What if the person knew what you were doing and gave his permission?"

"Well, yeah, but who...." Angel hesitated as understanding dawned. "You don't know what you're saying," he stated certainly.

"Maybe I do. I don't mean that you can drain me. But, I would certainly survive if I allowed you to feed."

"How do you know I wouldn't kill you?"

Methos smiled and stepped closer, lifting his sword once again to rest against Angel's throat. "Because if you did, I would come back and gut you again."

"You're sure?" Angel's tone spoke of deep concern as he stepped closer, letting the blade cut into his flesh.

Methos sobered, lowered his blade, and met Angel's gaze unflinchingly. "Yes."

Methos laid down his sword as Angel discarded his coat and stepped closer, until they were almost sharing a breath. He watched as Angel's face changed, his human form disappearing in an instant to be replaced by the grotesque face of a monster, fangs bared and ready to rip into his vein. He stood very still, bracing himself, when Angel leaned over, and punctured his flesh.

He felt the sting as Angel's fangs tore his skin and sank into his vein. He felt a warmth envelope him and he sank deeper into Angel's embrace, as the vampire hugged him tightly to his chest and drank deeply. Suddenly, his cock was achingly hard, throbbing against the confines of his pants.

He moaned and sank more deeply into the vampire's embrace, crying out in ecstasy as his orgasm overtook him, pulsing through his cock fiercely, until he was lowered gently onto the floor.

When he woke, he was lying on his bed with Angel looking down at him in concern.

"Are you all right?" Angel asked as Methos tried to sit up.

"Yes, I think so. What happened?"

Angel smiled shyly. "I forgot to tell you. When we feed, we sometimes elicit a sexual response from our victims. You…you had…." Angel dipped his head, unable to finish the words.

"Is it sexual for vampires, as well?" Methos asked, delighted when the other man looked away in embarrassment.

"Yeah, for us too."

Methos felt the burn from his quickening as it worked to repair the damage to his neck. "How much blood did you take? You didn't drain me?" he asked sharply.

"No, I don't think I could have if I wanted to. Your blood is very potent, strong. It even tastes different than other people's."

"What'd you mean?" Methos asked, his curiosity piqued.

"I don't know exactly how to explain it. But, when I began to drink your blood, I could feel your energy, it was like an electric current entered my body, and I felt your power enter me."

Methos laid back into his pillow as he contemplated Angel's words. "Did you have an orgasm?" he asked as he regarded the man still leaning over him protectively.

He saw Angel smile and visibly relax. "Yes, I did."

"Good."

~~~~~~

Angel licked the pale throat, sucking gently until a small bruise marked the skin. Ben was in his arms, warm and alive, his body thrumming with need that matched Angel's own. They had become lovers that first night. A night that had extended into a month, and then another.

Angel's cock was hard and aching, demanding release with a power all its own. He felt Ben's body respond in kind as he rubbed his own throbbing shaft against Angel's leg. Angel continued to kiss and suck his lover's skin, working down from his throat to his chest, stopping only to give extra attention to the small buds of Ben's nipples. He felt the tiny pink buds harden under his tongue and bit down gently, smiling when he heard a moan in response.

"You like that?" Angel purred and bit down harder, moaning himself when Ben wrapped his legs around Angel's waist and undulated his hips to grind his cock against him harder.

Suddenly all of the playfulness was gone as their mouths connected in a searing kiss and their tongues dueled in the moist heat. They began to grind their cocks together, their legs entwined to give them leverage as the heat increased between them. They were both panting into one another's mouth as their tongues slid together to match the rhythm of their cocks as they thrust. Angel felt the pressure building inside himself, a pleasure that was increasing with every thrust, every glide of sweet skin against skin, hardness against hardness. They were both slick with arousal, the friction both delicious and fierce.

Angel tensed and pulled the other man to his chest in a fierce hug as he began to peak. He felt the tension in the other man's body and shivered with expectation as he felt the impending climax rising from his loins. Then they were both crying out, as their cocks ignited in a burning passion, and they came together, hard.

Angel sighed as his breathing evened out and he was pulled into strong arms. He laid his head against his lover's chest and started to doze in contentment.

"How do you do that?" He heard a sleepy voice drift through the fog clouding his mind.

"Hm? Do what?" He struggled to wakefulness and shifted to look at the other man's face.

"You aren't alive. Well, not in the technical sense. Your heart doesn't beat. You don't have blood rushing through your veins. So, how do you get an erection?"

Angel thought hard, seeing the logic of the other man's words, but unable to come up with a coherent answer. Well, he mused to himself, that's what he got for sleeping with a doctor.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, before smiling deviously against his lover's shoulder. "Come to think of it, there's been something I've been wondering about immortals. He waited, knowing his comment would elicit a response.

"Um, such as?" came the sleepy reply.

Angel smiled and leaned up to whisper in Ben's ear. "Bullets."

He laid back and waited, knowing the exact moment when his lover was once again fully awake.

"Excuse me?" came the startled reply as Ben jerked awake and sat up in bed to stare at him incredulously.

"Bullets. You know, lead. You fire it from a gun."

"I'm quite aware of what bullets are, Angel. I mean, what is your question about bullets?"

"Well," he stated as he looked up into his lover's annoyed face. "What happens to them? You know, when one of you is shot? Does your body dissolve them? Or do they just stay in there forever? Maybe, they move through your bloodstream until they get to your bowels and you excrete them when you go to the bathroom?"

"I do _not_ shit out bullets," came the irritated reply.

'Right on cue,' Angel thought to himself. He turned towards his lover and smiled complacently.

"Of course, you don't. Forget I brought it up." With that, he rolled over and scooted closer to his lover's chest. He felt himself being pulled into Ben's embrace and closed his eyes. He was just about asleep, his mind in a pleasant haze when her heard his lover's soft voice drift to his ear.

"Touché."

~~~~~~

One Month Later

Angel watched from the window, the shadows effectively protecting his skin. They had been lounging in bed, enjoying one another's company, and indulging in passionate bouts of sex in between naps and easy conversation.

Until _he_ came, a hunter, an immortal, hearing another of his kind was near. They had felt his presence first. Ben had tensed and jumped up, grabbing his sword before throwing on his pants and rushing to the door. The man had bellowed from the other side of the door, challenging. And, Ben had left to meet his challenge.

Angel stood and watched, his body strumming with tension. Even though he, himself, had once felt Ben's blade, he had never witnessed him in a confrontation with another immortal. He knew his lover didn't want to fight, never sought out other immortals for combat. He hoped that wouldn't cost him his life now. Angel had been prepared to intervene, to do anything to protect his lover. But, apparently that was against the rules and he had been forbidden to interfere.

Now, he watched as Ben fought for his life. The other immortal had been vicious in his attack, aggressively maneuvering Ben into a defensive stance. Angel clenched his hands into fists and fought the urge to ignore Ben's warning against interfering. Ignoring his own better judgment, he looked out into the yard, and mentally calculated the distance between the house and the shed where he would be protected from the sun.

He breathed a sigh of relief when Ben began to push the other man back with his blade, now turning into the aggressor as the other man tired. Angel smiled as he realized Ben had been purposely holding back, learning his opponent's strengths and weaknesses as he tired himself out. He felt the tension ease from his body, and relaxed against the wall and continued to watch.

Until he saw the other immortal reach inside his coat. Angel saw the gun before Ben did, and without thinking he reacted, running out into the sun towards the two men. He felt the heat scorch his skin, the pain searing a path into every nerve. And then he was rolling, the other immortal in his grasp, the gun slung to the ground without being fired. They slid into the shed as Angel tumbled, refusing to relinquish the man from his grasp as he battled the fire consuming his body.

He rolled on the ground until the fire was extinguished, and he let his human face go, changing into his natural form in front of the immortal's eyes. With his super human strength, he picked the immortal up and threw him into the wall of the shed. He grabbed him and looked into his face, reveling in the look of shock and fear he saw reflected there before clamping down on his neck with his fangs. He drank deeply, taking in every drop of the powerful essence of the man. He felt his body surge with the man's quickening, searing through every cell of his body, and he continued to drink until the immortal lay dead in his arms.

He threw the body to the ground in disgust and fell to his knees. A few minutes later, he was being covered by a blanket and led to the house.

~~~~~~

Methos stepped into his living room and set down his suitcase. Angel was sitting alone in the dark, his skin still bruised and blistered from being on fire. He walked up to him and placed a soothing hand on his shoulder, waiting until he was ready to talk.

When the words came, it wasn't what Methos had expected.

"Did you take his head?" Angel asked without turning to look at him.

"No," he said, shaking his head to accentuate the word. "It will take awhile for his body to replace his entire blood supply. He won't be back tonight."

"You're leaving?"

The words finally came and Methos felt his throat close up with the threat of tears. "Yes," he said simply, hearing all the emotion he felt reflected in the word.

"Why? Because of what I did?" Angel turned to him, letting him see the pain and regret reflected in his eyes.

"No. Angel, listen to me," Methos said softly, while leaning over to place himself face to face with his lover. "It's not that. I'm not safe here anymore. _We're_ not safe here. If this immortal found me, there will be others. And now he knows what you are."

"I'll go with you," came the offer, and Methos straightened up and shook his head again.

"No. You're very special to me, Angel. But, we don't love each other. Be my friend, or even my lover, but we're safer apart. It's time for me to leave, to change identities. I've been Dr. Benjamin Adams far too long. You knew it was only a matter of time."

He sighed with relief when Angel nodded his head and he knew he understood. "You could have been killed today, permanently," he continued softly. "For someone you don't really love. We both deserve better than that, love."

"Where will you go?" Angel looked up at him with sad eyes.

"I don't know. I usually don't until I get there." He smiled at the other man, relieved when he received a smile in return. "I have a gift for you, though. Before I go."

"What?"

He smiled sadly and took Angel's hand. "I told you that I had a lot of my own demons. Angel, I've killed. Without reason. For over a thousand years. And, unlike you, it wasn't because I had lost my soul. I just didn't care. I had no conscience for my behavior. It took a long time before I could break free of that life, and I live with the weight of it every day. You once asked me how I coped. How I managed to live with my past. I told you I didn't have any answers, remember?"

Angel nodded his head and squeezed his hand. "Yeah, you're just a guy."

"Right. And that's true. I am. But more than that, I'm a guy that's learned the hard way that you have to let the past go. Accept it, it's who you were and part of what makes you who you are today. Accept it and move on. I try not to judge others because to do so, I'd have to judge myself. And, I can't do that. I want to live.

"So do I."

"Yes, I know. And that may be your salvation after all, Angel. I would love to stay with you, be a part of your life. Know that. Believe it. But, I'm also a pragmatist and I know for my survival--our survival--it cannot be."

"I know. I think I've always known this is how it had to be," Angel admitted.

Methos reached down to pull Angel to his feet. Cupping the back of his head, he brought Angel's mouth to his own to kiss him gently on the lips. He pulled away and looked him in the eyes. "My gift, Angel, is myself. My real self. You deserve to know who I am. I told you I was old. Very old."

"I remember." He sighed, pressing his face against his lover's shoulder.

"I'm five thousand years old, love," Methos told him, not surprised when Angel lifted his head from his shoulder to look at him in shock. He stroked Angel's cheek and pulled him in for another kiss, one just as gentle, but deeper, stronger, spiked with promise and hope.

He lifted his bag before turning to face Angel one last time. "I'm the oldest of my kind. My name is Methos. Remember." And he walked away, pausing with a smile when he heard the softly spoken word follow him out the door.

"Touché."

~~~~~~

November 2, 2000  
Seacouver Park  
Dusk

Angel placed a hand on Methos' arm and squeezed it affectionately. "I was really scared."

"You weren't alone," Methos informed him with a nervous chuckle. "For awhile there, I really wasn't sure I was going to get out with my head intact."

"You had to know MacLeod would be tearing the place apart looking for you," Angel informed him.

"Of course, but how was I supposed to know he had you to help him?"

"You didn't," Angel said, and looked away to gather his thoughts from deep inside himself. "I never looked for you, after you left," he continued, finally turning to look into hazel eyes.

"I know. I missed you terribly then."

"I know."

They stood in silence, the crisp November breeze caressing them as their thoughts brought them together again, united in a memory of long ago.

"MacLeod really loves you," Angel broke the silence.

"I know, I love him too," Methos said and smiled. "I'm glad you got to meet him. Have you found anyone to make you happy yet, Angel?"

"Yeah, but it's not for me, Methos. It turns out that my curse not only returned my soul, but has also guaranteed that I'll always be alone. If I ever have a moment of true happiness, I'll lose my soul again and turn back into what I was."

"Angel...." Methos reached out and touched his face.

Angel slipped his hand over Methos' and held it in his own. "No. No pity, Methos. Remember, accept it, and move on. You taught me that."

"So I did. Never said it would be easy."

"No, you didn't." Angel smiled and released Methos' hand, cocking his head towards the advancing figure of Duncan MacLeod. "We have company."

Methos turned around and smiled widely as his current lover approached. "Mac," he called out.

Duncan reached him and they embraced.

"I'm glad you're here," Angel told Duncan. "I was just leaving and I wanted to tell you goodbye." He paused and looked into Methos' eyes knowingly, before once again addressing Duncan. "I'm grateful he has you."

Duncan nodded and shook his hand, stepping back to give Methos and Angel a private moment.

Angel looked into Methos' face, the eyes he knew so well, the nose he used to playfully trace with his finger, the mouth he used to kiss hungrily. Stepping close, he leaned in and pressed their lips together, invading gently with his tongue, and tasted the familiar essence of Methos' mouth.

He pulled his mouth away, and leaned towards an exposed ear. "I lied when you left. I did love you."

Angel stepped away, nodding once again towards Macleod before he turned to leave. And stopped dead in his tracks, smiling when he heard the familiar voice call out behind him.

"Touché".

finis


End file.
